


and you were so beautiful in your white wedding dress

by crownuponherhead



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Canon Compliant, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Canon, Queen Sansa, R Plus L Equals J, arya and sansa have a solid sisterhood !!!!, who survived? who died?? good question i didn't want to make that decision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownuponherhead/pseuds/crownuponherhead
Summary: She’s snapped from her thoughts at the voice of one of her ladies who laces up the white velvet and silk gown that had been put together. White for the snow of winter, someone had voiced when it first been delivered. She only heard Bran’s words from before echoing through her head searching for answers in his vacant gone eyes.for a prompt on tumblr





	and you were so beautiful in your white wedding dress

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi this is the first time i've written in canon verse because as someone who spends all their time in medieval and early modern works i just try not to write it, also it scared me for a while because there's so much detail. anyway i received this prompt on tumblr and thought why not so here we go pls send love if you love it. 
> 
> Jonsa prompt: Jon and Sansa are betrothed and married to each other. But on their wedding night Sansa breaks down and admits she is afraid to consummate the marriage due to her past abuse which she can't forget. Jon decides not to make a move and comforts her instead

_For the good of the people._ It’s what had been decided, agreed upon, it would be what was best. Westeros needed unity and they could provide it. It was poetic justice really, now that she doesn’t want to be it, she’s to be Queen. Now that she was content to not be married, content to just be amongst her family that still lived, she is to be a wife and it is implied a mother. She is to give Westeros an heir, something she longed for so long ago and had become the last thing she wanted to do. If she could even have a child. It’s a thought she’s had daily in fear and worry of what would be.

 

Could she even have a child? Was she not too torn apart?

 

“Did you want braids or not?” She’s snapped from her thoughts at the voice of one of her ladies who laces up the white velvet and silk gown that had been put together. White for the snow of winter, someone had voiced when it first been delivered. She only heard Bran’s words from before echoing through her head searching for answers in his vacant gone eyes.

 

“Just enough to get it out of my face as simple as possible like any other day, I want most of it down.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

 _Your Grace._ The crown wasn’t even on her head and she’d been called that so many times it still uneased her. She didn’t exactly have good footsteps to follow in the line of Queenship.

 

She looked out the window her eyes watched the waves hit the rocks beneath the keep. White Harbour was still the North, and the North was still home.

 

Winterfell was burned, it was being rebuilt slowly brick by brick.  King’s Landing, had erupted in wildfire when the Dragon Queen had uttered her word of death and destruction. Green and Orange flames took over the city, a city that had brought her so much pain but she still wept watching it burn to a crisp from the Blackwater Bay. Not for the Queens, but for the people. The people who were caught up and lost in the selfish desires of other people.

 

Dragonstone was a nonstarter, Jon himself said he was not to embrace the Targaryen. Besides an island was no place for a capital.

 

Harrenhal was still in ruins, though it seemed the best alternative. It was another place that would be receiving refurbishments, everyone on council it would be a good middle ground between the North and the South for the new capital.

 

“Your Grace,” She supposes she should get used to it. “It’s time for you to head down.”

 

She doesn’t let them put her maidencloak on her, no that would be only for herself. Putting it on her shoulders she finally lets herself see her reflection.

 

She does not look like a Queen. She looks more of her Lady Mother than any Queen she had seen before.

 

Stepping out of the chambers she’d been allowed since they’d been allowed use of the keep in White Harbour. Allowed, she tried not to laugh, what was left of the Mandlery family had been more than accommodating. It was simply just the best offer for a temporary capital.

 

She doubts these many people had ever been in the keep before, all surviving noble families had come up to White Harbour.  Not just for the wedding, but to announce the new plans for the country. The entire keep was buzzing lately but not now, now it was still dark and the castle had not even begun to rise, they would not until the sun did. For now, it was just family and the closest of friends who would witness her and Jon in front of the heart tree. The people could have their ceremony in the sept, but they would were children of the North.

 

“Took you long enough,” Her sister's voice is the only thing that stops her at the edge of the stairs leading down from the castle on a hill to the godswood.

 

“I was lost in thought.”

 

They walk down in silence, from there halfway down the stairs they are joined by Brienne, who gives a smile and mentions that she looks beautiful and, “the image of Lady Catelyn.”

 

“You do, it’s like looking at a ghost sometimes, but one that we shouldn’t know a young but wrong version.” Arya’s honest leaves her in shock not able to say anything until she sees the red leaves in sight in the distance.

 

“Sometimes, when I see my reflection I think the same thing.” It’s her sister who is surprised this time, almost as if she never expected to hear the agreement of the sentiment.

 

“You do look beautiful.”

 

“Thank you,”  They both stop at the edge of where everyone can see, Brienne walks ahead to join the crowd of Davos, Sam, Gilly, Gendry, and baby Sam and she is left with her sister.

 

“Did you ever think I would be the one giving you away?” Arya seems to think it is the funniest thing, Bran she knows watches from a raven sitting on branch just above, he wouldn’t have made it down the stairs.

 

“No, but it seems right.”  It’s with that she turns towards the weirwood, where she can see Jon standing just in front of. With a deep breath, she moves ahead of her sister following suit. She isn’t scared, she isn’t upset. How can she be when she is finally marrying man who is all the things her father once promised her?

 

\--

 

“Sansa, sweetling, what’s wrong you look as if your head is a million miles away.”  Jon’s voice is strong but soft and his gentle touch on her side it just the same. In the middle of the chaos of the ceremony and the idea that they should now both have crowns on for the feast. They’re alone now for possibly the only few moments they’ll get until the night. The night, which leaves a pit in her stomach and has sense Bran repeated those words again to her. _“And you were so beautiful in your white wedding dress.”_ Her senses tell her that maybe Bran might have just seen the future. Her mind just takes her back to her last wedding night. As much as she wishes her mind would not.

 

“Just something Bran said, it’s just repeating in my mind.” She leaned against his touch just a bit but she knew she was tense. She could tell that Jon knew she was tense as well.  “It’s silly and it’s just playing with my nerves.”

 

They’d spoken about this, hours between them working to heal the North and the country to a large extent back to a normal way of living when the betrothal had been announced she mentioned her fears in the silence. She was scared of her reactions of her last husband, of how she would handle things, that she might be too broken to have a child, the fear that he had ruined her womb with his torture, or she had ruined it with the moon tea she drank.

 

“We don’t have to do anything, I told you that much.” He had, she knows he means it to but it doesn’t eliminate the simple fact.

 

“You need an heir, heirs truly, and the country needs them. Without that, we fall right back into this cycle we just destroyed. My fears can be ignored for the people.” She adjusts the tiara at that, it’s a delicate thing of silver vines intricately moving around each other and there are small details of roses, she knows they are meant to be winter roses but with no colour it reminds her of something Margarey might have worn.

 

Jon has not interupted or tired to protest again but the sad gaze he gives her let’s know that he isn’t happy with her answer. She takes a step back and places her hand on his cheek.

 

“Jon, it’s not just me you need to protect but so many people who have already lost too much.”

 

“You will always be the first person I will protect, even from myself.”

 

She doesn’t get to reply as the door opens and Davos gives them a look they both know mean he didn’t want to interrupt but they were needed. Letting Jon take her hand, Sansa took a deep breath as they made their way into the wedding feast loud voices yelling the King and Queen.

 

\--

The lords knew going in there would be no bedding ceremony but that didn’t mean her hands didn’t shake at the protests when it was reannounced. Instead, she and Jon simply stood and walked back to the chambers that Jon had been given. The entire castle was silent except for the background noise of the feast that went on behind them. The silence became more defeaning the farther they got from it. And as the door shut to what was now their chambers, her stuff having been brought in earlier, a single maid came in to undo the laces of her gown properly. The tiara was set down on the vanity that had set in her chambers that was now in here, the cloak laid over a chair in front of it and the braids taken swiftly out of her hair.

 

For his part, Jon looked out the window with a poured glass of ale as the maid quickly moved around. Before Sansa knew it the gown was gone and she stood just in shift. At the sound of the door shutting once more, Jon looked over. His eyes roamed before promptly looking back up to her face. The distance between them seemed to vanish rather quickly. She felt her heart begin to race.

 

“Are you sure, Sansa?” His voice is low and his hands over just over her waist.

 

“We must.” She tells him, herself more.

 

His lips are on hers for the third time that day and she can’t complain she enjoys it. Kissing Jon is something that starts a feeling in her stomach that just feels good. It’s the same joy she gets from lemon cakes or smelling flowers or when a dress is finished. It’s inherently good. And his hands rest on her waist moving ever so slightly and she can’t help but melt into him.

 

However, the blissful moments are interrupted when the thoughts from earlier enter her mind and his lips move to her neck at the same time his hands move. “You looked so beautiful on your wedding night…” It haunts her as she feels her hands begin to shake and she very gently pushes him back.

 

“I’m sorry,” it’s all she gets out.

 

She is to be strong. Sansa refuses to cry, he is long dead to his own dogs and he can’t hurt her. Jon would never hurt her but it’s the combination of the nerves and the words and her fears.

 

“Sansa, sweet girl, you don’t have to apologize.”  He’s hovering over her a good distance away but still close that she could reach out to him if she wanted to. She hadn’t realized she’d sat down on the bed.

 

“I do though, we can not let our people down and I’m doing it only a few hours into the job.”

 

She doesn’t cry it’s frustration. She wants to be passed this, but it scared her. To be touched like that again even if it was in a way she had never experienced, soft and kind.

 

“Let me help you,” Jon sinks to his knees and how he looks at her it makes her heart swell. She doesn’t think they are supposed to love each other, but she knows she loves him with her whole heart.

 

“Can we not consummate tonight?” Her voice is small and she feels like a child almost asking to stay up to watch the stars. Jon, however, looks at her so kind and caring. He nods and stands pressing a kiss to her forehead. She motions for the bed and within a few moments, they're in it together. And she finds herself cuddling against him.

 

“Did I do something wrong, you need to tell me if I did.”

 

“It was nothing you did,” And she tells him. She tells him of that day under the heart tree with Bran. Of how she had related those words with her past that she wished to forget until today. “I realize, that Bran might not have been telling me the past but the future. All I see in my head is the past and the active thought of it plus being touched, you didn’t do anything wrong in fact it was wonderful. I just found myself scared.”

 

“We won’t do anything until you’re ready, sweet girl.” That alone gives her comfort and makes her want to be ready. She lets them get lost in conversation, cuddled together close to sleep.

 

“Jon?”  He hums in response. “I would like to try again tomorrow.”

 

“Than we will try again tomorrow.”  

**Author's Note:**

> hi i just wanted to say at the end of this i personally am not a fan of the too traumatized to do anything troupe. i have a lil personal experience as a woman and i understand that sometimes a touch can take you back to something...however i don't see that with sansa to the point that it is often suggested as. i don't want to go too in detail but if u want my opinion on it u can messaged me on tumblr and i'll give you it and why. i did want to answer the prompt though, which is why it was a combination of things. thank u for reading. xoxo


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